


smaller spaces

by vvelna



Series: magician au [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, dan is sad and filled with existential dread, magician!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvelna/pseuds/vvelna
Summary: Dan’s just dropped out of university and has no idea what to do next. Then he sees a job ad for a magician’s assistant.





	smaller spaces

**Author's Note:**

> this is my final bingo fic, for the player's choice square, and takes place in the same universe as my fic "zig zag boy"

The future was wide open. Dan had walked out of university and out into the world with no map. It was like standing alone in a vast empty clearing, a white fog obscuring everything in the far distance. It was terrifying.

He’s half-heartedly trawling the internet for job opportunities when he sees the ad. Magician’s Assistant Wanted. He almost doesn’t click. It sounds dubious—like a scam or some kind of porno rather than a legit job opportunity. But he’s got nothing to lose, and the words stand out amid an endless list of invitations to a life of soul-sucking monotony.

He squints at the burning glow of his laptop screen, the room gone dark around him as he sinks further into the sofa.

The ad reads:

Hi! I’m an amateur magician seeking an assistant for future performances. Must be 18+, flexible, strong, not claustrophobic, and have good stage presence. Email to apply.

Then there’s his name—Phil—and an email address.

Dan is twenty. He’s relatively flexible, he thinks. He’s not sure how strong “strong” is, but he’s not particularly weak, despite his relatively sedentary lifestyle. He’s not claustrophobic, as far as he knows. He’s only performed on stage in school plays, but that has to count for something.

He sends an email, short and formal. Phil didn’t ask for a CV, but he attaches his anyway.

The reply comes much quicker than he expects. It includes two exclamation marks and a smiley face. The gist of it is that this Phil guy is going to be interviewing people on Saturday starting at 2pm. It’s Thursday night. Dan has all of Friday and Saturday morning to change his mind.

*

Dan doesn’t change his mind. He puzzles over what to wear to the interview. He doesn’t want to go too formal; he’s not getting that kind of vibe from Phil’s email. But showing up in stained sweatpants will probably hurt his chances. He’s not even sure he wants the job. He has no idea what he wants, really. He just knows whatever it is, he doesn’t have it. He opts for skinny jeans and a white button-up with a grey cardigan over it.

The address Phil provided in his email ends up being a coffee shop. It looks like it’s seen better days. There’s no one sitting at any of the little round tables and he can see the fluorescent ceiling lights flickering through the window. The shiny new Starbucks down the road probably hasn’t been good for business. He steps inside and a bored-looking guy scrolling on his phone behind the counter speaks to him without looking up.

“Here for the magic shit? Down that hall, first door on your left.” He raises his arm to point in the general direction of a hallway.

Dan feels his first pang of nervousness. It’s like he’s heading to an exam, and he hasn’t studied any of the material or attended a single lecture. What the fuck does he know about performing magic? He’s going to make a fool of himself. He could just turn around and walk out. There’s no obligation here. Oddly enough, that’s what keeps him moving forward. No one is making him do this; he’s making a choice. He can do that now.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the first door on the left. MAGICIAN ASSISTANT INTERVIEWS. Little stars are drawn around the words. Dan takes a deep breath and pushes open the door.

There are at least ten people waiting to be interviewed, and they all look over when he walks in. There are only two chairs, so the majority are standing up, a few in groups and others alone. Dan appears to be one of only two guys in the room. He’s also by far the tallest person there. Being able to look out over the tops of everyone’s heads makes him painfully self-conscious. It’s like he doesn’t fit. He doesn’t belong. He’s a gangly giant in a room full of tiny gymnasts.

Dan makes his way over to an unoccupied patch of wall and tries to look unbothered as he leans against it and pulls his phone out of his pocket. It’s 2:30. He hadn’t wanted to show up too early (he’d also overslept).

On the back wall there’s another door opposite the one Dan came in through. He jumps a little when it suddenly swings open and a head peeks out. It belongs to a pale guy with black hair cut in a style not unlike Dan’s. The head is followed by a long neck and somewhat hunched, broad shoulders swathed in plaid. He must be Phil. He’s tall. He’s…attractive? Dan’s not ready to deal with that observation, so he stows it away in one of the many mental cupboards he’s built to protect himself.

“Sorry to be starting late,” Phil says, eyes darting from face to face. He’s clinging to the door like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth. “I guess we can go in the order you contacted me. Is Sandra here?”

A pixie who looks like she could float on the breeze but also bench press Dan springs up from one of the chairs. She and Phil exchange smiles and disappear beyond the door.

Sandra reemerges about fifteen minutes later. She walks over to the girl who was sitting next to her.

“How was it?”

“Really weird. Like, I thought he was gonna cry or something.”

“Gross.”

Both girls leave together. Dan’s not sure if the other one was just there for moral support, or if she changed her mind. Phil pokes his head out again and calls for the next interviewee.

Five more people go before Dan. The shortest interview lasts barely five minutes; the girl stalks out of the waiting room angrily, slamming the door behind her. The longest is closer to thirty minutes, and Phil is laughing when he opens the door and sends her off. Dan’s stomach churns and berates him. He hasn’t eaten all day. He could leave at any time. Just say, fuck it, and walk out. But he stays.

“Dan?”

He watches himself step away from the wall and follow Phil through the door, into a depressing little room, much like a carpeted prison cell. The walls are bare and the only furnishings are a utilitarian desk with two chairs facing each other. A large suitcase lies open and empty in the corner of the room. They sit down and Phil fumbles with some papers, cursing under his breath when one slides out of his hands and falls beneath the desk. He pushes his chair back and crawls under to retrieve it. Dan winces when Phil bangs his head against the underside of the desk. He claws his way back up into his chair, eyes downcast and cheeks rosy. The paper is crumpled in his fist and a little tuft of hair sticks straight up out of his fringe. He’s an absolute mess. It’s comforting.

“Sorry. I’m a little, um. I’ve never done this before. Interviewed people.”

Dan’s not sure if he’s supposed to say anything to that, so he doesn’t. He just nods when Phil finally looks up at him, and gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

“I’ve got your CV here,” he continues, smoothing out the wayward sheet of paper. “I see you’re at University of Manchester?”

Dan’s heart starts beating fast. He’d attached his CV to his email without giving it a second glance. Of course it says he’s currently attending uni. Now he has to explain to yet another person that he’s a miserable failure.

“Actually, I’m not. I was, but I, uh…I’m not now.”

Phil nods. He’s still looking at Dan’s CV but his eyes are fixed in one spot and don’t move over the page. His thoughts seem to be elsewhere. He bounces his leg and it shakes the whole desk.

When he starts speaking again, it’s at a rapid pace, like he thinks Dan’s going to bolt from the room at any second and he needs to get his whole spiel out before he does.

“I’ve been doing magic for a few years now and I’ve got to this point where I really need help because I want to move on to more advanced tricks that require another person. I haven’t really performed anywhere yet, other than for friends and family, but I’ve got a few things in the works. This isn’t really a job that pays well—I mean, it only pays if we actually get booked. ‘Assistant’ is a bit of a misnomer. I’m not looking to be anyone’s boss; I just need someone who can work alongside me.”

Phil takes a deep breath and lets his head fall into his hands. He rubs his face and pushes his hair up off his forehead before meeting Dan’s eyes again.

“I understand if that isn’t really what you were expecting. But are you still interested?”

Dan’s not _uninterested_. This wasn’t what he was expecting, at all. He was imagining a little more glitz—soft purple lights and gaudy furnishings. A confident older man in a tailored suit with a tacky red waistcoat and shoes with white spats. A top hat that may or may not contain a rabbit. (Dan’s perception of magicians might be a little flawed.)

But Phil is the most interesting person he’s met in a while. There’s something shiny about him that grabs Dan’s attention. In that drab little room, he glows, despite his obvious discomfort. He’s a world of previously unknown possibilities squeezed into a skinny package.

So when Dan speaks, he means what he says.

“Yeah, I am. I don’t really know anything about magic, but…I’m interested.” He might be more interested in Phil than the job, but learning magic tricks can’t be as dull and stressful as studying law.

Phil’s eyes widen momentarily and then soften. “Really?”

Dan nods.

Phil rubs the back of his neck and looks away, biting his lip. Dan suddenly feels bashful. Something warm flows through him. As soon as he recognizes the feeling, it turns sour. He tears his eyes away from Phil’s mouth and eyes and entire face and focuses on the beige void behind him.

“This is going to sound really weird—and you can say no—but I need to ask you to do something now.”

Dan’s heart starts racing again. He’s struck by the alarming thought that in that moment, he would do anything Phil asked. He’s not a rational person anymore. He’s a bundle of impulsive decisions, all waiting for their chance to be made.

“I want you—only if you’re okay with it—to get in the suitcase.”

“You want me to get in the suitcase?” Dan just wants to clarify that he didn’t mishear Phil, before he gets out of his seat and does something embarrassing.

“I’m not going to close it, I promise!” Phil’s face is red and he waves his hands around. “I just need to see if you can fit into it. I’ll stay right over here, behind the desk.”

Dan doesn’t care where Phil stays. He gets up and walks over to the suitcase. Kneels down, climbs inside. Shifts around until he’s curled up so tightly his chin’s between his knees. It’s not comfortable. It even hurts a little. Parts of his body are being stretched and compressed in ways they aren’t used to. But he fits.

Phil’s standing behind the desk, leaning over it and peering down at him. Dan’s emotions are muddled. He feels vulnerable. He feels safe. He feels like maybe he’d like to just lie in the suitcase forever.

Phil doesn’t speak, so Dan does. “Close it.”

“Sorry?”

“Come over here and close the suitcase. I wanna see if I fit with it closed.” He doesn’t actually care about that. He doesn’t know why, but he needs Phil to do it. He’ll never be able to get out if Phil doesn’t close him in further.

Phil comes out from behind the desk, then hesitates.

“Are you sure? This really isn’t necessary.”

But it is. Dan is starting to feel frantic. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Phil doesn’t close the suitcase. From here on out he’s capable of anything. Every moment of his future is uncharted.

“I’m sure. Come on, it’s totally fine.”

Phil walks over and kneels down on the floor beside the suitcase. He still looks unsure. Dan wasn’t prepared to have him so close. He reaches over Dan to grab the outer flap of the suitcase. If Dan raised his head, he’d touch Phil’s chest. He holds himself perfectly still. Phil lowers the flap over him.

“I’m just going to zip it up like halfway, okay? I don’t want you to die in there.” He laughs nervously. His voice is deep and all around Dan.

He pulls on the zipper and the strip of light around Dan’s face disappears. Soon he’s in complete darkness. Phil leaves the zipper unzipped around the bottom, but Dan’s body blocks the light coming in by his feet. The inside of the flap is pressed against his face and he’s finding it hard to breathe because his lungs can’t expand fully. But he’s not scared. He feels peaceful. Secure. Hidden away.

Phil unzips the suitcase and throws the flap back. It hits the floor with a smack. Dan blinks in the sudden light and sees Phil’s face right above his, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

“Are you okay? That was probably a stupid thing to do.”

Dan starts to shift and Phil leans back, away from the suitcase so Dan can sit up and crawl out of it. He feels dizzy. The room spins.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“I’m really impressed you fit. You know, being so big and all.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” The words leave Dan’s mouth before he has any time to consider the pros and cons of saying them.

Phil’s mouth hangs slightly open. They look at each other, wide-eyed and tense. Then Phil clears his throat and looks away. He gets to his feet and holds out a hand to Dan to help pull him up. Dan does his best not to let on how unsteady he is on his feet. His palm burns against Phil’s.

“Well. I guess that’s it for today. I’ll call you.” Phil drops Dan’s hand and then rushes to clarify his words. “For a second interview! If I decide to have one with you. Or even if I don’t. I’m going to call everyone, either way.”

“Alright. It was nice to meet you, Phil.” He means it, but his voice still sounds hollow to his ears.

“You too, Dan,” says Phil, and his words and smile are genuine.

Dan leaves the room and passes through the next one and the hallway, back into the main shop area, then out the door and onto the streets of Manchester. He ends up at his building without any memory of the journey. Once inside his flat, he kicks off his shoes and walks like a zombie to his bedroom. He curls up in a tight ball in bed and pulls the covers over his head.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! and if you're one of the people who's been reading a lot of my bingo fics along the way, thank you very very much :)
> 
>  
> 
> [ reblog/like on tumblr ](https://velvetnautilus.tumblr.com/private/179369018115/tumblr_ph301co82a1wm9q5f)


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